


Not The Worst Thing

by MintSauce



Series: Ian/Mickey Prompt Fills [8]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Not canon-compliant, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 04:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintSauce/pseuds/MintSauce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fiona didn't know what she'd done in a past life to deserve having two of the Milkovich kids in her house at once, but she thought it must have been bad. Prompt fill for gaymorris</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not The Worst Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Mickey hanging at the Gallagher house and Frank starts on Ian. Mickey stands up for him. – gaymorris
> 
> Set as if Mandy never ran over Karen and Terry never walked in on Mickey and Ian.

 

Fiona didn’t have a clue what she’d done in a past life to warrant having two Milkovich kids in her house at once; but she suspects it must have been something horrible.

Mandy had practically moved in and Lip wasn’t acting like it was annoying anymore. They were in a full-blown relationship for real it seemed. Why, Fiona didn’t know, but she maybe could live with that, because she didn’t think Mandy was outright dangerous. Sure, she didn’t hesitate to sic her brother on people that pissed her off and she carried a bit of an arsenal around, but Fiona didn’t fear that she’d ever killed anyone.

Not like she did with the second Milkovich currently in her house. And she didn’t feel like she had any right to tell any of the kids who they should and shouldn’t be friends with, but she thought it would have been common sense for someone to steer clear of making Mickey Milkovich their friend. Except no, Ian – her perfectly sensible, smart Ian – had apparently decided Mickey should be his new best friend.

And sure, she’d known they worked together, but this had never occurred to her for even a second. Why would it? Ian was nice, Mickey was not, and there was no obvious explanation for why they should be friends.

Hell, even Mandy looked confused as to why her brother was there and Fiona didn’t think that could, in any way be a good sign.

And Fiona didn’t have a clue how the hell Ian had even gotten Mickey to agree to come over for dinner. He just looked so awkward and like he’d rather be anywhere else. It almost made her regret saying that of course Ian could have someone over for dinner. She hadn’t even hesitated, because she never got to see any insight into Ian’s life anymore and it had worried her that she hadn’t had a clue who he’d been wanting to invite. She could have guessed with all the other kids, but not Ian. He was always out and he was so secretive lately.

Now she was just panicking that he was getting involved in something horribly illegal with a Milkovich.

“You like pasta right?” she asked the ex-con currently standing in her kitchen next to her brother. Because if this had to happen then she was at least going to try and be civil, for Ian’s sake.

Mickey jumped like he hadn’t expected her to talk to him, or maybe it was that he hadn’t expected her to actually be alright with feeding him and his blue eyes flickered over towards Ian before he stared back at her. “Yeah,” he said eventually, picking at the fraying edge of his hoodie sleeve.

Fiona could have sworn Ian had one that looked just like it.

She nodded, almost tried to force a smile before deciding it would have looked too fake. “Good.” A part of her wondered if this kid had ever eaten a proper meal before in his life. She thought probably not, which was a sad thought and then she wondered that maybe that was it. Maybe Ian looked at Mickey like someone who needed saving or fixing.

Mickey gladly accepted the beer that Ian handed to him, gulping down half of it in one go and he just flipped Ian off at the amused expression on his face.

The fact that the move between them seemed too natural, the idea that Ian wasn’t afraid to laugh at Mickey without expecting some sort of bodily harm, it calmed Fiona down slightly. Not completely, but slightly.

Maybe they could possibly be friends after all.

She watched them as they moved off, watched the casual way that they shoved at each other’s shoulders before sitting side by side on the couch to watch whatever movie was playing. She watched the easy way that they share a smoke, Mickey handing it over without argument when Ian held his hand out.

Both of their eyes were locked on the screen for the most part, but occasionally Ian’s eyes would stray to Mickey and he’d smile just slightly, like he couldn’t believe that Mickey hadn’t taken off yet.

And Mickey didn’t quite relax, but some of the tension slid out of his body the longer they sat together on the couch. It seemed almost comfortable the way he told Mandy, “Put some fucking clothes on, you look like a goddamn whore,” when she came downstairs with Lip and Fiona found herself almost smirking at that whilst Ian smacked Mickey’s arm lightly; earning him a glare but nothing more.

Fiona watched curiously at how Mickey told Mandy to go fuck herself when she reached for his beer, but how ten minutes later he let Ian drink the last of it when her brother tipped his bottle back only to find it empty. Ian hadn’t even had to ask, Mickey just handed it to him. 

The two of them sat side by side during dinner, talking lowly to each other occasionally. Mickey looked as awkward as hell, only talking to Ian and hunching slightly over his food as he ate. That was until Ian said, “Mickey slow down, no one’s going to take it off you, Jesus!” whilst dropping another slice of bread onto Mickey’s plate without asking.

“Fuck off,” Mickey told him and even Mandy seemed to tense, waiting for him to fly off the handle or do something else. But all that happened was Ian rolled his eyes and Mickey snorted, picking up the piece of bread now on his plate and staring to make something of a sandwich.

Nevertheless, he ate slower after that and Fiona let out a breath that she didn’t know she’d been holding.

The back door opened just as most of them were finishing up and Fiona scowled at the sight of Frank. “Get the hell out,” she barked at him, a little unnecessarily since Ian and Lip were both already up and pushing Frank back. Lip was the only one really pushing though, unafraid to hit his father whereas Ian never had done. Even when he had the most reason to. He just stood there as back-up.

“You can’t throw me out of my own house!” Frank growled at them, struggling against Lip and stopping him from forcing him out the door. “Goddamn ungrateful kids.” He scowled, pointing at Ian, swaying a little with how drunk he evidently was. “And _you_ , you’re not even mine!” he spat out, “Shouldn’t even be in my goddamn house!”

Ian just rolled his eyes, far too used to this to be hurt or otherwise affected. “Time to go Frank,” he said, taking a step towards the Gallagher patriarch.

“Fuck off,” Frank growled at him, “You can’t tell me to get out of my own house!”

Fiona didn’t see the hit coming, none of them really did. One minute Frank was waving his hands around as he ranted and the next his fist was lashing out. It caught Ian in the jaw, but it was the force of Mickey Milkovich suddenly surging forwards that knocked him to the side.

Mickey slammed Frank into the wall, a hand around his throat and Fiona didn’t think she’d ever seen anything quite like a furious Mickey. His eyes were practically burning as he stared at Frank and when he spoke his voice was low and dangerous and cold.

“Touch him again and I will cut your fucking balls off and choke you with them,” he snarled at Frank, putting pressure on the older man’s windpipe as he spoke. Fiona could see Frank turning red in the face and she wondered if Mickey would kill him. She didn’t know if she would try to stop him if he did. “You understand Frank?”

Looking like he was about to piss himself, Frank nodded as best he could around the grip Mickey had on his throat.

Mickey seemed to squeeze once more for good measure and his smile when it curved up the edges of his mouth was all teeth and almost completely evil.

“Good,” he said, dropping Frank and kicking at him when he tried to slump down to the floor, fingers clutching at his own throat as he dragged in ragged breaths. “Now fuck off.”

Fiona had never seen Frank hurry to follow a command quite so fast before and she couldn’t help but smile even if it was a little bittersweet.

She didn’t know if this was what being friends with Mickey Milkovich was like. She didn’t know where that anger or protectiveness had come from, not when it seemed so out of character. And she didn’t know if that meant there was something else there. She thought there probably was, couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something.

She watched with everyone else as Mickey sat down back at the table, Ian seeming to move automatically to do the same. She watched Mickey steal Ian’s last meatball from his plate and tense slightly when their eyes met. “Not a fucking word, Gallagher,” Mickey warned him around a mouthful of food.

Ian just grinned like someone had given him everything he’d ever wanted.

And Fiona didn’t understand it. Still wasn’t completely happy about it either, but she thought that if this was what Ian having Mickey Milkovich in his life was always going to be like, then maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world after all. 


End file.
